


Yuletide Healing

by ABrighterDarkness



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Recovering, Eternal flame - Freeform, F/M, Healing, Injured Bucky, Yuletide, bitter Lavender, hideaway, holiday party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:42:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21579349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ABrighterDarkness/pseuds/ABrighterDarkness
Summary: “Oh,” she blinked in surprise. “Good memories, I hope?”“Some,” the man answered solemnly.  The weariness suddenly drained from his expression replaced by interest, “You left your party, you said?”“Yes,” she answered, drawing out the word in confusion.He swiftly scooped her hands in his, clearly mindful of and more hesitant with his left, and pulled them both to their feet, “What I remember--there’s dancing? At parties?”“Most that I’ve attended, yes,” Lavender confirmed again.
Relationships: Lavender Brown/James "Bucky" Barnes
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13
Collections: Enchanted Wonders Holiday Collection 2019





	Yuletide Healing

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Marvelously Magical's Enchanted Wonders Holiday Collection!
> 
> Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Lavender Brown  
> Enchanted Item/Spell: Eternal Flame  
> Word Prompt: Holiday Party
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Yule parties used to be her favorite of the year, when she was younger. She would spend months coordinating with her mother and the seamstress to have the  _ perfect _ look. Hours on her hair and cosmetics. And all the time spent had never been a chore, it had been  _ fun _ . She looked forward to the whole thing each and every year.

And that terrible final year at Hogwarts.

And the war.

Greyback.

It had been a long road to recovery with the brutal attack she had suffered at the hands--or teeth, as it were--of the vicious bastard. Given the source, Lavender knew that her scars weren’t going to go away, fade with time. They were now as much a part of her as her blonde hair, blue eyes, and even her magic. 

The same was true for the beast they had awoken in her. 

That was precisely the reason she no longer enjoyed the parties as she did in her youth. Not because she was ashamed. She could truthfully say that she wasn’t, not of the beast or the scars. After all, not many managed to go toe-to-toe with Fenrir Greyback over the years and live to tell the tale. So she got a little furry once a month, she lived, didn’t she?

No, her battle scars weren’t why she had grown to loath the parties, not directly anyway. It was the  _ reactions _ . The  _ pity _ . The disgust she could twist into jokes or ignore entirely. The pity though? That was much harder to ignore. Especially when she didn’t need nor want it.

The preparation process that she had once so loved and ceased being enjoyable when the concern turned from what was pretty and fun to what would best conceal her scars. High necked dresses, heavy cosmetics, piling her hair  _ just so _ . How was that fun?

It wasn’t.

Lavender sighed resentfully as she tugged her heavy cloak around her shoulders--bared by her strapless dress because, yeah screw you, you crusty old bint--and slipped through the side doors that led to the open grounds of her family home. Away from the sounds and stares of the festivities, she felt tension begin to drain from her body. Without a backwards glance, she continued to the forest at the edge of the property and escaped into the safety of the trees.

It was a hike, and one not best taken in a gown and heels if one could avoid it, but Lavender knew that there was a lovely rock formation tucked into the heart of the forest. She had found it by accident, when she had been allowed on her own for extended times once she had been released from Saint Mungo’s. With a frustrated growl, she kicked off her sparkly gold shoes and left them where they fell and continued across the snowy ground barefoot, pausing only long enough to cast a mild warming charm to prevent any real damage. 

She found that she hadn’t even begun to breath heavily by the time she reached the large trunk of a fallen tree that she had used to mentally mark the location. Mindful of the potential slick surfaces, Lavender carefully worked her way around the enormous formation until she found the north face, which wasn’t actually a face but a cave. She sighed again, though this time in clear relief, as she entered the space, feeling the warmth before she even saw the tell tale glow.

Taking a left at the fork she adjusted her stride when the ground descended sharply. A few more yards and she could hear the running water of the spring and feel the heat of the flame and the remaining tension in her melted away. Here, she was safe.

She reached level ground once more and spotted the large spring on the far side of the underground cavern and then the warm golden glow embedded into the rockface--she had known what _that_ was upon sight, naturally created Eternal Flames were beyond rare and she was in no hurry to share. Only, she immediately realized that she wasn’t alone.

A figure huddled into a ball beneath the Flame, clearly absorbing warmth as best they could. Decidedly male. But there was something...off. While his huddled posture might suggest vulnerability the tense lines of his back and shoulders told her that he was probably aware of her presence before she had noticed his. A rather terrifying thought considering the sensory enhancements gifted by the wolf she now shared her soul with. 

She carefully raised her hands in front of her in a conciliatory gesture, approaching in a wide arc rather than a direct line. “I’m not here to harm you,” she said, speaking softly but clearly. “Are you alright?”

The closer she drew the stiffer he became and Lavender frowned as a familiar scent crossed her nose. It wasn’t one she picked up often but she knew it. Had known it since she was all but bathed in it at 17. 

Blood.

He was injured. No wonder he was wary. Very slowly and making sure that her movements were clearly visible, Lavender unclasped her cloak and transferred it across his shoulders, offering what additional warmth she could. That done, she crouched beside him and caught sharp grey eyes watching her every move. 

“Easy,” she soothed. “Can you tell me your name?”

He swallowed thickly, nervously she realized, “I--Bucky? Maybe?”

“Alright, Bucky,” Lavender nodded and offered a small smile. “May I see your injury? See if I can help?”

He shook his head, dirty, tangled hair shifting with the movement, “I heal fast. No need.”

“Humor me?” she pressed with a grin. Watching her closely, he unfolded his body from the huddle and Lavender’s eyes quickly zeroed in on the source of the blood. It coated his shirt over his abdomen with the fabric torn through to the right of his naval. She hissed sympathetically and inched forward, her hand moving slowly to give him plenty of warning and carefully lifting the bottom edge of his shirt to assess the damage done. “Is it straight through, love?”

He gave her a single, sharp nod of his head in confirmation. Lavender bit back a sigh of relief. While she had done training with Madam Pomfrey, her Healing studies had been cut short when she had become infected. Removing an object from the abdomen was not something she had the opportunity to become proficient in. 

“Alright, let’s get this out of the way,” she urged gently, lifting the shirt away from where it had become stuck to his skin. He eyed her hesitantly before allowing her to remove the garment. She absently took note of the peculiarity of his scarring and his left arm but discarded the curiosity in favor of the wound, it wasn’t like she wasn't without her own peculiarities, after all. 

“This may tingle a bit but it shouldn’t hurt,” she warned. Mindlessly, pushing her hair out of the way and securing it with a touch of magic, Lavender settled more comfortably on the ground and shifted to lightly place her right hand over the wound on his abdomen and slipped her left to mirror at his back. She could feel him stiffen beneath her hands but forced her focus to remain, a soft exhale and she pushed her magic forward like Madam Pomfrey had taught her. 

After several long moments, she slowly withdrew her hands, pleased to see reddened but otherwise unbroken skin. “There we go,” she breathed with a grin, dropping her hands into her lap but before they could land, they were caught in his--the flesh one, she noted absently--the hold firm but gentle.

“You’ll ruin it,” he said quietly, voice unsure and expression confused, as though he didn’t know where such words came from or why he might have said them.

“The walk through the forest hopefully did that job for me,” she quipped with a wry smirk. His brows furrowed and Lavender tilted her head curiously before carefully pushing to her feet, using his grip on her bloodstained hands to pull him with her. “Don’t you worry about my dress. Come, lets get some of this mess off of you, yeah?”

“Whatever created the Flame was an immense power source, it manages to heat the spring water as well. You’ll find it quite warm,” she said, gesturing to the water. Reaching down into her cloak, she withdrew the old shirt that she had intended to change into, a few charms later and it was reduced to rags. Guiding him to the water’s edge, she dropped to sit inelegantly on the floor and dipped the first of the shirt-rags into the water and lifted it in offering.

Rather than using it to remove the remnants of his injury, he dropped beside her to carefully clean his blood from her hands and Lavender blinked in surprise but smiled softly at the kindness. With intense focus, he moved from her hands to clear away the smudge at her neck from where she had pushed her hair aside. She kept herself still, relaxed, as he worked until he froze, tension radiating through his form.

Lavender focused on his expression where he was staring, looking painfully lost, at where his metal hand had risen, index finger extended to trace over the scarring on her throat. Swallowing heavily, hoping that the dense scars weren’t the cause, she tilted her head in question, “Bucky? What is it?”

His eyes immediately snapped to hers and then quickly away, “It’s a weapon. I shouldn’t have touched you with it.”

She felt herself soften and she carefully raised her own hand to run her finger tips down the metal appendage before curling around his wrist and guiding his fingers back where they had been at her throat, “You’re no danger to me. Just as I’m not currently a danger to you. Not unless we’re given no other choice.”

“You’re more dangerous than just whatever you did to heal me, aren’t you?” He asked speculatively.

Lavender allowed her gleeful wolf to rise enough to show in her eyes and she knew he saw the change when the fingers of his flesh hand twitched slightly, “What do you think?” She dipped another one of the rags into the heated water and shifted closer to him. “Now, if you’re not going to clean yourself then I’ll have to do it for you.” 

With careful hands, she used all of the remaining scraps of her shirt to remove the dried and tacky blood from his skin, “Dare I ask what happened?” A look of vindictive satisfaction crossed his expression and he shrugged but didn’t offer a verbal answer. She was undoubtedly curious but chose not to press.

“Dare I ask why you’re wandering the forest at night in fancy clothes?” He countered instead.

Her lips quirked in wry amusement, “Better company than the party I left even if you weren’t here. I live not too terribly far. This place has been my...escape for a while now.”

“Party?”

“Yule,” Lavender answered.

“Oh,” he said, sounding surprised. “I--I forgot...holidays. December?”

“It’s December, yes, for a week or so longer,” she confirmed. “How long have you been out on your own?”

“Not long enough,” he said and something in his tone warned her away from asking further questions. 

“Well then, I guess you get to spend the rest of Yule and Christmas in this nice little hideaway,” she chirped cheerily.

“I shouldn’t stay,” he denied immediately.

“They won’t find you here,” Lavender said gently with a small shrug. “I’ve researched the Flame since I found it. They’re sacred spaces but they’re endued with magical properties that also allow them to be  _ safe _ spaces for those that can find them. I don’t know who or what you’re hiding from but I assure you, they can’t find you here.”

She lifted her gaze to catch his and spoke seriously, “Obviously, I can’t and won’t make you stay but for as long as you do, you’re safe. And if you need a hideaway to escape in the future? It’ll still be here and it’ll still be safe.”

“You found it,” he pointed out.

“Yes, I did. Because I needed the same,” Lavender admitted. Her right hand rose to trace the scarring on her neck, chest, and shoulder. “After the attack that gave me these, after being released from treatment...I was in desperate need to be able to get away. Prejudice, pity, expectations, life in general. I was wondering the forest just to be able to breathe in peace and I came upon this place. I’ve never felt safety like this before or since.”

He nodded slowly in consideration before freezing once again, gaze distant. Repetition of the act heightened Lavender’s curiosity and when he blinked and refocused on her she tilted her head in question, “Are you alright?”

“My...mind hasn’t been my own,” he answered slowly. “Memories come back sometimes.”

“Oh,” she blinked in surprise. “Good memories, I hope?”

“Some,” the man answered solemnly. The weariness suddenly drained from his expression replaced by interest, “You left your party, you said?”

“Yes,” she answered, drawing out the word in confusion.

He swiftly scooped her hands in his, clearly mindful of and more hesitant with his left, and pulled them both to their feet, “What I remember--there’s dancing? At parties?”

“Most that I’ve attended, yes,” Lavender confirmed again.

The smile he gave then was small and awkward, as though he wasn’t sure how to produce the expression genuinely--given what he had told her about his mind, perhaps he wasn’t. “I haven’t danced in...in a very long time. A-and you’re dressed to dance at a party. Could we--Do you? Dance with me?”

Lavender felt her face heat and her eyes widened in surprise. The sudden shift from gentle but solemn and defensive to eager to dance with her threw her but she found herself nodding regardless, “I--um--yes, yes of course.”

The next smile was a touch warmer and just a little bit more genuine. Bucky tilted his head in thought, perhaps checking his memory before adjusting their postures appropriately with his hand coming to rest respectfully at the center of her back. There was an effortless grace to his movements when he pushed them off and moved them freely but mindfully around the cavern that spoke of training and practice and she very much wanted to ask. Could she? Would it ruin this disaster-turned-wonderful-time?

“I’ve not either,” he spoke suddenly, catching her confusion on the random comment, he ducked his head in a bashful sort of way. “Felt safe. Thank you.” Lavender smiled warmly in response and fell easily into step following his lead as he shifted the pace slightly. “Why did you leave your party?”

“My  _ parents’ _ party,” she corrected wearily. “Things changed after the attack. They’re much more troublesome and much less enjoyable than they used to be. I’m expected to show but I rarely stay. I usually end up here.”

“Usually in fancy gown and barefoot?”

“Only when the heels get in the way of walking,” she quipped.

Bucky huffed an almost-laugh and nodded in concession and studied her nervously, “This place. You said I could come back?”

“Anytime,” Lavender confirmed.

“And you? You’ll--” the question dropped off, bitten back abruptly.

“I can be,” she answered anyway and then with a teasing smirk added “Am I that good of a dancer?”

“Best in decades,” he said with a hint of irony in his tone that she didn’t understand.

“That’s a story worth hearing someday,” she smiled with curiosity.

“Maybe,” he demurred. Conversation faded but the steady weight of his hand on her back, the other gently clasping hers as he directed them easily didn’t. It was nice, Lavender decided, to be able to dance for Yule with such casualness. With no judgments or pity. Just the warmth of the Flame in a cavern under the heart of the forest.

“Happy Christmas, by the way,” she said with a quiet smile sometime later when their pace slowed. With a small amount of hesitation, she shifted against him enough to press her lips to his cheek. He drew their movements to a stop and studied her intently for a moment as she dropped back to neutral. Lavender noted that even with the hour or more of dancing, the man wasn’t even breathing heavily. “Easy,” she said softly. “It’s a simple gesture.”

The silence grew and Lavender grew more awkward but she drew herself up and smiled, “It was good to meet you, Bucky. I’ll see you next time, yeah?” With another small smile she moved to gather her cloak from where she had discarded it earlier.

A warm hand closed around her wrist and she turned back in question only to find a pair of soft lips suddenly pressing against her own. A brief moment of surprise, froze her before she pressed back against him. It was a little clumsy but sweet and chaste and when he pulled back his gaze was still studying her with the same intensity. But when his metal hand rose, fingertips tracing the line of her jaw and down over the vicious scarring on her throat and down over her collar bone, his eyes drifted to follow the movement, intensity softening. Lavender shivered at the feather light touch but allowed it easily.

“Battered but not broken,” she said finally with no small amount of pride. “Both of us, I think. What better way to celebrate the Yule?”

He exhaled shakily at her words and met her gaze again, raising their hands into position and replacing the other on her back just an inch or two closer. Lavender smiled brightly moving her free hand back to his bare shoulder. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

And then they danced.


End file.
